


HSBG Drabbles

by booklovertwilight



Series: HSBG-Verse [2]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Aftermath, Aged-Up Yuri Plisetsky, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Magic, Alternate Universe - Modern with Magic, Children, Established Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov, Established Otabek Altin/Yuri Plisetsky, Happily Ever After, Headcanon, M/M, Married Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov, Multi, One Big Happy Family, Parents Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-05
Updated: 2020-05-05
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:40:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,905
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24016840
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/booklovertwilight/pseuds/booklovertwilight
Summary: A series of author-headcanon drabbles, mainly aftermaths, of the fic "Hair of Silver, Blades of Gold". If you haven't read that fic, none of this will make any sense, so please read it first!https://archiveofourown.org/works/10620963/chapters/49091831
Relationships: Jean-Jacques Leroy & Yuri Plisetsky, Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov, Leo de la Iglesia/Ji Guang-Hong, Otabek Altin & Jean-Jacques Leroy, Otabek Altin/Yuri Plisetsky, Victor Nikiforov & Yuri Plisetsky
Series: HSBG-Verse [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1732312
Comments: 2
Kudos: 6





	1. Aftermath: Yuuri, Viktor, and-

**Author's Note:**

> I've got a google doc for any suggestions/edits for these drabbles:  
> https://docs.google.com/document/d/1McXhpzMlMjoN1XhqWVdYbVuRAwmmkI7Fl1blLiofQVs/edit?usp=sharing
> 
> Thanks for reading! As always, please leave kudos/comments if you like these random thoughts <3

Yuuri met Viktor - and Yurio - on his way back to the palace with Itsuki and Sana. Viktor had changed out of his kimono and put on more standard athletic gear, but Yurio was still in his silk tuxedo, hair done up with jewels in his braids. 

“Hi, Yurio,” Yuuri said, speaking Common but wishing for the nuanced formality of Japanese. He didn’t know what ground they were on at all. What ground was a person  _ on _ with someone who heard they’d committed hundreds of thousands of murders and then walked away for fifteen years?

“Yo, Katsudon,” Yurio said, dispelling the worst of Yuuri’s anxieties. “Good to see you.”

Telepathy was harder outside his stasis pod, but he’d re-learned how to do it.  _ Do you mean that? _

_ Yeah, _ Yurio thought,  _ I do. _

“Good to see you, too,” Yuuri said aloud, keeping both the relief and the confusion out of his tone. He gestured for Yurio and Viktor to follow him, and the whole group started walking back to the palace.

_ I just explained it to Viktor, _ Yurio thought to Yuuri as they walked,  _ why I came back. I don’t hate you, Yuuri. If you’d have me… if you can forgive me… I would like to be your friend again. _

_ If  _ you _ could forgive  _ me _ , that’s all I could ask for. _

Sana spoke up. “Hey! It’s Yurio, right?” Her voice was enthusiastic. “You’re Baba’s friend?”

“Oh, I’ve been demoted to  _ friend _ now?” Yurio grinned at Viktor, jabbing him with his elbow.

“I would like to point out that you disappeared for fifteen years,” Viktor retorted.

“That’s no excuse, old man.” They approached the back door to the palace, and Yurio pulled the door open, holding it for everyone.

Itsuki turned to Sana as they walked by, his voice quiet. “Who  _ is _ this guy?” He had to be important, or powerful, or both, to call the King  _ old man _ and get away with it.

Evidently, his voice hadn’t been quiet enough to be imperceptible to Yurio. “Viktor’s brother,” he said.

“Wait, you  _ have _ a brother?” Sana exclaimed, doing a little skip.

Viktor sighed, raked a hand through his fringe. “Yes.”

“Why didn’t you say so?” Itsuki’s voice was much calmer.

“I didn’t know if you would ever get to meet him,” Viktor replied.

They turned into one of the royal palace’s many lounges, this one walled by floor-to-ceiling bookcases and furnished exclusively by animal-print bean bags otherwise. Yurio took the tiger-print one, and Yuuri and Viktor followed suit, curling into a comfortable cuddle pile that permitted Yurio precisely no personal space to anxiously fiddle with. Sana and Itsuki took a smaller blue leopard-print one nearby.

“Are you staying?” Itsuki asked. He looked at Yurio, who looked at Viktor, who looked at Yuuri.

Yuuri looked back to Yurio, smiled gently. “You’re welcome any time, if you’d like.”

Yurio grinned, emerald eyes glistening. “Thank you,” he said quietly, “I really mean that. And, y’know, if you ever need a bodyguard…”

“Yurio… you’ve put your swords away somewhere safe, correct?” Yuuri said in lieu of answering. He used the slightest shade of his Royal Voice.

“Uh… yeah?” His frown was confused.

“The best future I can imagine for all of us is the one where you never need to take them out again.” He smiled. “I don’t need a bodyguard. I would love a friend.”

“Yuck!” Sana exclaimed, sticking her tongue out.

Itsuki elbowed her. “Sana…”

“What!”


	2. Aftermath: Leo, and-

Leo looked out the window of the bullet train, staring at the surroundings as they blurred by.

Since the Shadow left him, Leo had left his cloth wrap behind. His eyes, at least, had returned to normal - though his scars would never leave and his magic would never return - and he thought that should at least count for something. Everyone he knew, even and especially Guang-Hong, had been so accepting of his mistakes.

Even so, he wondered whether to put his wraps back on, just for today. He’d brought the roll of cloth along so he wouldn’t need to make that decision before he left the house, and he rolled it between his palms, taking it out of his hoodie pocket and putting it back in. The northern mountains were coming into view, along with the hazy edge of the Kamyinsk skyline. He’d have to figure it out soon.

He stepped out of the train station, two hundred numas lighter between the train ticket and a visit to the automatic skate-shoe enchantment booth. He headed towards the eastern guards’ station.

Finally he stood outside the door with the two blunted spears crossed over its entrance. He couldn’t put it off any longer, so he decided. People with nothing to hide don’t walk around wearing blindfolds. It would be obvious what he was, or had been, regardless. They would accept him, or not, and there was nothing he could do about it. So he pushed open the heavy door, and walked into the lobby in the middle of the communal lunch.

There were an abundance of faces he didn’t recognize, not only because he’d last been here fifteen years ago. The royal guard had been officially disbanded by a mandate of the crowned Prince, and the guards’ stations had been converted into hostels crossed with dojos, open to anyone who wanted to stay or train there.

He was both relieved and anxious to find that the people he’d come to meet were there, sitting together in a far corner, chatting over bowls of rice.

Ana looked exactly how he would have expected her to look, aged up from six to twenty-one. Her straight-cut bangs, long dark hair, half-lidded hazel eyes, and soft face were the same as they’d always been, but her expression held a confidence and self-assuredness that had been sorely lacking back then. Her childhood chub and awkwardness had been replaced by elegance and grace.

Sky was harder to recognize. At nine, they’d been skinny and short, the sort of kid who looked like they night snap in half if they bent too far. But there was an aura of strength about them now, both mental and physical. Still, the excited ocean-blue eyes remained, as well as the curly waist-length hair, now twisted up in dreadlocks and pulled into a bun.

Leo walked closer to them, along a twisted path between groups of people.

It was Ana who met his eyes first, and hers widened, an orange spark blooming amid the green and brown. She set her bowl aside and stood, running over to him. She tackled him in a hug before he could speak.

“Leo,” she said, her voice almost a whisper, the press of her arms gentle.

“Hi, Ana,” he said.

Strong arms wrapped around the both of them, squishing them together.

“Hi, Sky,” Leo groaned.

“Hi,” they said, letting go and grinning.

Leo stepped half a pace away from his old friends. He really didn’t have anything to say. A tackle-hug wasn’t something he’d prepared for.

“We really missed you, you know,” Ana said. “The only way any of us knew you weren’t dead was the homing enchantment on your sword.” She crossed her arms, uncrossed them. “It was hard to stay here and train, instead of dropping everything to go look for you. And then I heard you’d joined the Shadow cult, but I didn’t know…” She glanced at the ground.

“I only pretended to,” Leo said, trying to sound reassuring but unable to hide the desperation in his voice. “I did it so that I could hurt them, so they would stop hurting everyone else-”

Ana smiled, her eyes sad. “I’m just glad you’re okay.”

Leo’s chest burned. He’d disappointed her, he knew that. But there was nothing he could do about what was already done. It was impossible to wash the blood off his scarred hands.

“Hey,” Sky said, their hand on his shoulder. “You wanna come sit with us?”

Leo looked up and saw their smile. It was accepting, reassuring. He nodded, and followed them over.

“Well,” Sky said, “obviously you came to ask something or talk about something, or something,” they did a fidgety gesture with their hands, “so what was it?”

“I… well, I wanted to see you, and ask how you were doing.” Leo stared down at his clasped hands, watching his knuckles whiten with the strength of his own grip. Why was this so awkward? Sure, it’d been a long time since they talked, and they were kids before, but still. “I haven’t seen either of you in ten years, and, well…”

“We’re good,” Sky said noncommittally, like they were thinking the same thing. “Trying to find something else to do, now that we don’t have to defend a city for a living. I’m messing around with oil painting, and Ana’s thinking of becoming an accountant.”

“An  _ accountant?” _ Leo asked, giggling and meeting her eyes.

“I like numbers,” Ana huffed, taking an emphatic bite of her rice. She was smiling now.

“Uh, what else? I met these two cute girls, and we’re all dating now,” Sky said, eyes turned to the ceiling. “Ana and I were messing with the idea of heading to the royal palace sometime and asking the Kings about creating a free publicly-accessible education system. And I’m doing a solo violin performance in two weeks and I’m hella nervous. I think there are other things, but I don’t remember them.”

“What about you, Leo?” Ana asked, lacing her fingers together.

“Well… the forty-nine Shadow followers I killed deserve at least an honorable mention, I think, but besides that… I’ve mentioned Guang-Hong to you guys before, right? We’ve known each other forever… well, we just got married three months ago.” He held up his left hand with a simple golden band around his ring finger. “I’ve also had the  _ now that the Shadow’s gone, what am I going to do with my life _ crisis… my answer has been to help GH out with his wand shop. We’re thinking of maybe opening up a new one in the Capitol soon.”

“Y’know, it seems so weird, doesn’t it?” Sky asked, setting aside their now-empty bowl. “You spend your childhood and adolescence doing things not a lotta people do  _ ever _ , let alone at fifteen, and after all that shit’s over you just don’t know what to do, because how can you live a normal life? How do you, like, run a coffee shop or whatever normal people do when they grow up, after a childhood like that?”

“Yeah,” Leo said, in lieu of a more helpful response, because he didn’t have one.

“It is quite the conundrum,” Ana said, finger tapping her cheek. “Finding who you want to be is hard, but especially for people who  _ had _ a purpose while everyone else was out finding theirs, and then had it taken away. I think that’s the camp we’re in, once you strip away all the fighting and dying stuff.”

“Yeah, that’s true,” Sky said, “though at least for me, I dunno about you guys, but I feel like I need a…  _ grand _ purpose. Like, fighting the Shadow was a big purpose, and I don’t think I can just have a normal-sized purpose after that. I think I have to do something that’s just as big. Hence the publicly-accessible-free-education idea.”

“I dunno, man,” Leo shrugged. “I think I’m happy to be done with the impossible goals.”

Sky shrugged back, holding out their hand as Ana finished the last of her rice. They took her bowl and stacked it on top of their own. “To each their own.”

“So, um, can we expect you to visit again before another decade passes?” Ana asked.

Leo smiled, glanced aside. “Yeah.” He looked between his childhood friends, nodded. “Yeah, absolutely. Actually, can I get your numbers?”

“Oh!” Ana said, “Of course.”


	3. Aftermath: Yurio, Otabek, and-

The pleasant smell that drifted into his home office told Yurio it was dinnertime.

He didn’t bother to shut his laptop, only turned in his swivel chair and left the room, but he was careful to shut and latch the door on his way out - he didn’t want Potya getting in. The smell grew stronger as he paced down the hallway and the stairs, but he still couldn’t place it. He was about to round the corner and head into the kitchen to ask what Otabek was cooking, but he stopped.

His son stood in the living room, silver hair and copper skin dusted with the light of sunset. He stared up at Yurio’s swords where they hung in their scabbards against the wall.

“Nurzhan?” Yurio asked, walking up to him.

“Baba,” Nurzhan turned to look at him. He pointed up at the swords. “Those are yours, right?”

Yurio nodded, glancing at them. Otabek’s spear hung in an elegant fixture against the front wall of their house, as sort of a symbol of what he had been but was glad to not have to be anymore. 

Yurio had never cared for that sort of symbol. His daisho hung in the same scabbards they had when he’d carried them everywhere over two decades ago, held against the wall by a simple hook. Even though he’d paid them hardly a glance since he’d hung them up there, he could still describe the entire ensemble without having to look at it. Scabbards of lightweight wood, painted dark grey, sanded smooth, and lined with oil-soaked wool, firmly affixed to leather straps with bronze buckles. Artificial shark-skin samé on both handles, simple gold-plated tsuba, and silver blades glowing yellow-gold with the  _ lux solis _ enchantment.

“Are they still sharp?” Nurzhan turned back to the swords; his hand reached up a little, in some sort of reverence.

Yurio shrugged. “As ever.” 

“Would you still let me hold one, if I promise to be really careful?” He turned back to Yurio, emerald eyes shining with hope. “Please, Baba?”

Yurio looked at his son, sighed. He was only eleven, but if he could be trusted with a sharp kitchen knife, he could be trusted not to hurt himself with a sword. Yurio removed the shoto from its scabbard, trying not to remember all the times he’d clung to that handle for dear life, and spun it in his hand.

Nurzhan took the shoto’s handle in both hands, a look of sheer wonder and amazement on his face. He took a few steps backward and did a sort of diagonal movement. It wasn’t really a cut - the edge alignment was too terrible for even the forgiving curve of the shoto to correct - but it wasn’t trying to be. He swung it around very slowly a little more, then turned it around awkwardly in both hands to give it back to Yurio.

As Yurio was about to sheathe it again and head to the kitchen, Nurzhan asked, “Sometime, can you show me how to fight with that?” His eyes were narrowed, glancing at the floor like he was looking for something below it.

Yurio finished sheathing the shoto and knelt in front of his son. His own eyes looked across at him, confused. “Nurzhan…” he began, then paused, looking for words. “Did you know I used to have another name?”

Nurzhan tilted his head to the side, thick brows furrowing. “No…”

“My given name,” Yurio continued, “was Victor. Since that’s also your uncle’s name, he decided to call me Yurio. It was only a nickname for a long time, but after we sealed the Shadow… I decided I didn’t need to be Victor anymore. That name served its purpose, and it’s done now. So, I’m Yurio.” He turned his palm up. “It’s the same way with those. They’ve served their purpose, and they’re done now.”

“And, honestly…” Yurio’s lips pursed for a moment, “really fighting isn’t fun or cool. It’s painful and a mess. You put your entire life on the line every day, and you don’t get to keep all of it at the end.” He gestured to the scar that cut his left eyebrow in half. And then he smiled, and stole words from his brother-in-law: “The best future I can think of for you is the one where you never have to learn to fight.”

Nurzhan lowered his eyes. He didn’t seem like he really got it, but that was okay. Really getting it was also on Yurio’s list of things his son was better off not doing.

In the end, he knew he couldn’t prevent his son from wanting to learn to fight. And if Nurzhan pressed him, he would teach him, because Yurio was in fact an experienced swordsman, and there were worse things a person could do for fun or exercise. But for now, there was food cooking in the kitchen, and guests coming over, and it could wait.

“Let’s go see what Dad’s making for dinner, alright?” Yurio asked, and stood. “It smells delicious.” 

Nurzhan looked up at him and smiled, following Yurio out of the living room. “Okay.”

Behind the two of them, the front door opened. “Hey, Yurio!”

Yurio turned around. “JJ! Hey, come on in, dinner’s nearly ready. Right, Beka?”

“It is,” Otabek’s voice came from the kitchen. 

“Sweet, thanks!” JJ said, falling into step behind Yurio and Nurzhan.

“What are we having tonight, anyway?” Yurio asked as he sat at the kitchen table, rubbing his hands together.

“What does it smell like, Yurochka?” Otabek replied, turning around to give them all a wide smile. “I’m making pirozhki.”


End file.
